The Med-Jacks
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: (Cuz they needed some love) There were only ever two of them in the Glade. And with bottles of disgusting medicine and a very stubborn boy named Chuck to deal with, you'd think they wouldn't have any time to fall in love.


The Med-jacks

It was waaaayyy too early to be dealing with this crap.

"Chuck, I don't care if it hurts, I have to put this on it, or it'll get infected."

"I'd rather DIE!"

Jeff dragged a hand over his face in exasperation. The curly-haired kid sitting on the bed across from him was sticking his chin in the air stubbornly. He was holding his arm, which had been sliced by thorns and was now traced with lines of crimson. His blue eyes flashed with defiance, the childish defiance that came from a wimp not wanting to take his medicine. Jeff sighed and held up the tube of medication again. "Chuck, I'm putting this on your cuts, okay?" he deadpanned. "Suck it up."

"Never!"

"Please, dude, I have to—"

"No!"

"C'mon—"

"Uh-uh!"

"CHUCK I AM GOING TO MAKE WINSTON AMPUTATE YOUR DAMN ARM IF YOU DON'T PUT THIS ON IT RIGHT NOW." Jeff shoved the tube into Chuck's hands, and the little brat shoved it right back. Jeff scowled at him. "Take. The. Shucking. Medicine. Now."

Chuck folded his arms over his chest. "Make me," he chirped.

Jeff just looked at him.

And then he literally tackled Chuck. Chuck yelped as the Med-jack pinned him against the bed and hurriedly unscrewed the cap off the tube. The kid started hollering bloody murder then. He squirmed and kicked, his knee catching Jeff's thigh. "DAMMIT, CHUCK!" he yelled, struggling to grab the boy by the shoulders, straddling him. "HOLD STILL! I WILL KNOCK YOU OUT COLD, YOU HEAR ME? I WILL CALL ALBY IN HERE!" He snatched up Chuck's hurt arm. Growling under his breath, he lifted the tube to Chuck's skin.

"Nooooooo!" Chuck wailed, as the clear liquid medication seeped into his wound and stung like hell. He paused in his struggling, hissing at the pain.

Jeff's chest heaved, his v-necked, white tee slightly stained by Chuck's bloodied arm during the fight. "Okay," he panted. "Okay. I got it on. You're gonna be fine now. Was that really that bad?"

Chuck moaned like a hurt animal. "It feels like I'm dying," he whined.

"You'll get over it," Jeff replied flatly. "I told you, you're gonna be fi—" And Chuck hauled off and grabbed the tube; sitting up, he squirted the dang thing right in Jeff's face. Jeff squawked in shock, throwing himself off of Chuck. He wiped frantically at his eyes, swearing when the medication kicked in and stabbed at his pupils. He heard Chuck's impish laughter and the kid's footsteps thudding away. "YOU LITTLE BRAT!" Jeff yelled, his normally-sky-blue eyes red-rimmed and watering "GET BACK HERE!"

"Catch me if you can, Jackass!" Chuck shouted back, using the hated Glader nickname for Med-jacks.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Jeff took off after him. He stumbled out into the hallway like a drunk man, rubbing his still-stinging eyes. Grumbling, he stomped down the hall of the Homestead, glancing back and forth for Chuck. He had disappeared. There were only so many places he could hide though. Jeff took a right turn and came to a lonely wooden door. He paused. This was the patient Chuck visited the most, though he was only here for a check-up today. Still. Chuck might've snuck in again.

Jeff knocked politely. "Can I come in there?" he asked, annoyance edging into his voice.

A voice weighed down under a thick accent called back, "sure!"

Jeff practically threw the door off its hinges. He must've looked crazy, one hand held to his red eyes, medication making his short dark hair stick up in spikes in the front (if he still had his buzz cut it wouldn't have been a problem, but his hair was growing out now). He scowled at the room's inhabitants. "Where is he?"

Newt's brow furrowed in confusion. He was sitting up against pillows on the bed, while Clint studied his bad leg carefully. The always-present Keeper, Minho reclined next to him, idly playing with his blonde hair. "Where's who?" Newt asked slowly.

"Chuck," Jeff growled. "Where did he go? Did you see him?"

"I have no idea where he went," Newt replied, lifting his hands in an innocent gesture.

Minho arched an eyebrow at Jeff's face. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked.

"That shank shot his medicine into my shucking face," Jeff snapped.

Clint glanced up at that and when he saw Jeff, he cracked up. Minho's dark eyes glimmered teasingly and he smirked. "It looks real good on you, man," he joked, winking like Jeff had won a prize.

"You almost look as good as I did after the Bee Incident," Newt added with a grin. He exchanged a knowing look with Minho and the Keeper snickered.

Jeff glared at all of them. "You are all idiots," he said very clearly. "Every single one of you."

"Gee, thanks," Newt replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, Jackass," Minho quipped. Jeff glowered blackly at him and he beamed back. Then Newt poked a hand into his side, making him squeak like a tickled little kid.

Clint rolled his eyes at all of them. "All right, be quiet now," he ordered, raising his voice over theirs. He turned to Newt. "Newt, your leg's doing fine, other than the limp, of course. But there's really nothing we can do about that. You still can't run, like as a Runner, okay?"

Newt sobered at the words and nodded. "No problem," he replied with a half-smile. But there was an undercurrent of sadness in his words. Minho nuzzled his jaw and whispered something in his ear that made Newt lean into him gratefully.

As much as Jeff liked seeing the couple act all melty and cute together (yeah, RIGHT), he had more important things to do. Like figuring out how long it would take the Grievers to eat Chuck if he was kicked out in the Maze. He cleared his throat pointedly. "Well, I'm leaving," he decided. "You guys have fun. I have a brat to hunt down. Clint, I'll see you later. Keep up the good work." He gave a mock-salute then turned back into the hallway.

He made it four steps before he heard feet behind him. "Hey, Jeff! Wait up!" Clint.

Jeff sighed and halted. He took a moment to tell his heart to stop racing so damn fast, then he turned around and faced the other Med-jack. "What?" he asked, trying vainly not to stare. As he had been doing more and more lately.

It wasn't like he could help it. Clint was shorter than him, but somehow that only made him seem cuter. His hair was jet-black and soft, with a funny little wave in the front. The sides were unusually shot through with streaks of silver. This should've made him look old. But with his teenage face, it made him look handsome, in an uncanny way. His eyes were autumn-leaf brown, and up close there were minuscule flecks of gray. And even though he was just a Med-jack, his body was leanly muscular, broader shoulders tapering to a slender waist. Jeff could've looked at him for hours.

Clint raised his eyebrows. "You gotta clean that crap out of your eyes," he pointed out. "Or you'll run into a wall."

Jeff groaned. "I'll be fine," he insisted. "Can't it wait?"

"You know you shouldn't."

"So?"

"So let me clean it out."

"I don't wanna."

"Jeff."

"Clint."

Clint's mouth quirked. "Joseph."

Jeff ignored the way he lit up with delight at that. He glanced around uneasily. "Don't say that, someone might hear you," he hissed in exaggerated fear.

Clint sniggered. "Why don't you want anyone to know your name?" he asked curiously, amused by this.

"Cuz it's a sucky name." He never liked it. He liked shorter names. Like Jeff. Clint was the only one who got away with calling him Joseph. He acted like he hated it, but secretly, he loved hearing his partner's voice saying it.

"No it's not," Clint argued, glancing up at the ceiling as though asking heaven for strength. Then he propped his hands on his hips. "Now let me clean out your shucking eyes before you hurt yourself."

Aware that he was acting like Chuck, but not caring, Jeff whined. "I hate cleaning out eyes." It was true. It was the single most awful job a Med-jack could get. He pouted, "especially my OWN eyes."

"Oh, come on, you wimp." Clint snagged Jeff's shirt, fingers curling in the fabric over his chest; Jeff trailed behind the other boy, a dopey smile on his face as Clint's knuckles grazed his skin through his tee.

Clint dragged his reluctant friend into a side room. A sink sat against one wall, a mirror above it. The glass was smudged and cracked. The sink had seen better times, but at least it still worked. Beside that, there was a small table with an array of bottles and tubes, all requested for and sent up in the Box. Wicked syringes holding the Serum were cradled in a folded towel. Clint stopped Jeff by the sink and started running water into a bottle. He mixed it with a few drops of some bluish liquid from a tiny cap. Then he held up the water bottle.

"There."

Jeff stared at the bottle in dread. He knew how much that shit hurt. He switched tactics and gave Clint his best puppy eyes. "I really don't want to."

"I really don't care," Clint answered, unaffected. He pushed the bottle at Jeff again. "You're cleaning them out."

"But it hurts..." Jeff trailed off in defeat.

"I'm gonna hold you down and dump this all over your face if you don't do it," Clint stated. He grinned. "You're acting just like Chuck. Man up."

"You suck." Jeff swiped the bottle roughly away from Clint, who crossed his arms in triumph. Cringing, Jeff tipped his head back and struggled to keep his eyes as open as possible as he poured some of the medicine into them. Of course, it felt like knives were jabbing into his corneas and water dripped down his neck into his shirt. "Aw, hell no—Ow!—dammit, how much crap did you put into this?"

"Enough," Clint answered simply. He peered at Jeff's face. "Is it working?"

"I dunno, I can't really tell through all the FREAKING BURNING." Jeff blinked blearily, squinting at the mirror. He couldn't tell if the redness had died down yet. It felt so much worse than before.

Clint huffed. "Come here." He took Jeff by the shoulders and faced him. He studied the Med-jack's eyes for a long moment. His head tipped to the side. "Huh."

"What?" Jeff asked in alarm. "Is it bad? Will I go blind?"

"No, you dumb shank, it's just—" Clint seemed puzzled, like he was just realizing something. "Your eyes are so blue."

Jeff was sure he blushed. He laughed nervously. "They've, uh, always been like that," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Guess I just never noticed," Clint muttered, half to himself. Then he seemed to snap out of a trance. "Anyway, um. I think you're good now." He held out a hand for the bottle.

"Okay. Thanks." Jeff was still flustered, but he passed over the medicine. As he did, their hands overlapped. Clint's closed on top of Jeff's and warmth shot the whole way up his arm. He visibly stiffened. Clint noticed and froze too.

They stared at each other.

Then at the same time, they rushed forward and suddenly, they were kissing. Jeff wasn't sure how this ended up happening, but he didn't care. As soon as Clint's mouth was on his, his body ignited with sparks and his mind shut down. Clint was kissing him desperately, his free hand fisted in Jeff's shirt. A tiny whimper escaped Jeff and the bottle dropped from their hands. It bounced onto the floor and he knew water was spewing everywhere. He couldn't care less.

Without thinking, he closed his hands over Clint's hips and backed him up against the sink. He heard a gasp from the Med-jack and Clint's fingers hooked into the hem of his shirt. He didn't know what he was doing; he lifted Clint up, let him perch on the edge of the sink. Then he stepped between the other boy's knees, slinging his fingertips in his belt loops, and kissed him harder, deeper. He slipped his hands under Clint's shirt, sliding them over the lovely curve of his lower back, the whole way up to his shoulder blades.

Clint drew back, panting. "God, Jeff," he gasped. His brown eyes met light blue ones. "Ever since I met you—" He broke off, kissing down Jeff's neck, teeth and tongue brushing skin.

Jeff was shocked at how he reacted, tilting his head back, moaning brokenly. His nails dug into Clint's back without him realizing it and he ran them down along his spine. Clint made a sound of need from the back of his throat at the sensation. He continued to move his mouth down Jeff's neck, pausing to nibble at his exposed collarbone. Tingles of pleasure danced over his skin. "Clint," he breathed out drunkenly, "what're we doing?"

"I don't shucking care," Clint mumbled against his skin. He nuzzled Jeff's neck affectionately, almost...lovingly. "But I don't wanna stop."

Jeff shivered and hugged Clint against him, their bodies pressed together perfectly. "I've wanted you ever since I first saw you," he confessed in an exhale. "But we were best friends and I didn't think you'd feel the same."

Clint placed a soft kiss to Jeff's jaw. "Joseph," he whispered, "I love you."

Jeff's heart filled with light and he smiled into Clint's shoulder. "I love you too," he murmured. "I always have."

Clint pulled back far enough to cradle Jeff's face in his hands and kissed his forehead, his nose, then his mouth. "You're mine," he breathed between kisses. Jeff kissed back, drowning himself in it. It was slow and sweet and wonderful. Nothing ever—

"HOLY SHUCK!" a voice hollered from the doorway. "WHAT AM I LOOKING AT?!"

Jeff and Clint broke apart instantly. Jeff's jaw dropped when he recognized Chuck in the doorway, gaping at them. Embarrassment made his face burn. "We—we were just... I mean, um." He began to step back, but Clint laughed and hauled him back into his arms.

"Jeez, you guys got it BAD for each other!" Chuck cackled gleefully. "When's the wedding?"

"Get out of here, Chuck!" Jeff picked up a can of medicine and chucked it at the kid.

Chuck yelped and dodged away with a laugh. "See ya later, love-birds!"

Clint chuckled. "I can't believe you threw that at him," he said. His eyes sparkled.

"Yeah, well revenge ain't over yet," Jeff replied. He started after Chuck. He halted when Clint caught him by the waist. He grinned goofily and let Clint drag him back into an embrace.

"It can wait, can't it?" Clint asked in a murmur, running his nose along Jeff's jaw, sinking his hands into his back pockets.

Jeff sighed in bliss, wrapping his arms around his best friend, his boyfriend, his love. "Yeah," he whispered, kissing the tip of Clint's nose. "It can wait."


End file.
